


Maybe Baby

by ishafel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-06
Updated: 2011-06-06
Packaged: 2017-10-20 04:35:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/208791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishafel/pseuds/ishafel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes we get what we ask for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe Baby

The night Ginny comes by wearing a t-shirt that says _I'll have your baby, Draco_ Harry stops speaking to her, even though she apologizes seven or eight times. It's just too painful, imagining Draco curled around some slinky little blond who can give him what Harry can't. Specifically: an heir to the Malfoy fortune, left in trust for the next generation, and safely protected from Draco's shopping habits unless he can manage spawn.

But it's torture enough seeing Draco's face plastered on magazine covers and billboards, without seeing it all over women's breasts (and a few men's chests.) The truth is, Harry would have Draco's baby, too, if he had the equipment. He does try: he tries on cute little flowered dresses that makes his legs look knobby, and he has his back waxed, and he does charms that are supposed to give him working female parts, and he takes experimental Polyjuice variations and finds that if he were meant to be a girl he wouldn't be the kind of girl men are attracted to.

And every night he has nightmares about Draco in bed with a red-haired hussy who is as fertile as a Weasley. (Except after the Polyjuice Potions-then he dreams about eggs and ticking clocks and-strangely-Dumbledore.) The whole thing is disturbing, and far, far more unpleasant than the war. He considers stealing a baby from some innocent and unsuspecting couple, or adopting an orphan, but he suspects that this compromise would be unacceptable to both the lawyers and Draco.

When he's exhausted all the possibilities he can think of he sinks into a black depression. Ron and Hermione do their best to cheer him up, bringing him Quidditch mags and pornography (Ron) and self-help books (Hermione) and saying nasty things about Draco's hairline receding because it happened to all the Black men. Harry refuses to be comforted. He stops reading the news, he lets his cuticles grow ragged, and eventually he gives up on work and bathing and doing dishes.

He's at rock bottom-unwashed, with greasy hair and two-day old clothes, sitting in his recliner surrounded by beer bottles-when a key turns in his lock and the door opens. Draco is, of course, immaculate: even his jeans have clearly been pressed. "Potter," he says with distaste. "Tell me you haven't changed teams."

"You left me," Harry points out, aware that it doesn't really excuse squalor.

"Not like this," Draco answers. "Jesus, Harry, what part of we'll work this out didn't you understand?"

"All of it. Did you work it out?"

"If you mean did I find a way for you to bear my children, the answer is no. You smell too bad even to kiss." But Draco was smiling as he said it. "You're looking at the richest man in England, Harry-apparently the Blacks don't believe in leaving things to Mudbloods."

"I-you!" Harry was so angry he couldn't speak. "That was my money!" Almost couldn't speak. "Remember when you said that it wasn't enough money to buy a pot to piss in?"

"That was when it was your money," Draco explained patiently. "I've changed my mind about kissing you, smell and all."


End file.
